


Bar Night

by alexxphoenix42



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gay Bar, Gay Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-06
Updated: 2014-02-06
Packaged: 2018-01-11 08:32:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1170926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexxphoenix42/pseuds/alexxphoenix42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock decides he'd quite like to pull John at the bar - even if they are already going out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bar Night

"Hey gorgeous!" a man across the bar called.  Heads swiveled. Someone wolf-whistled back. 

John never glanced up from his place at the bar top. Sherlock studied him carefully. John had left his usual jeans and jumper at home to go undercover at the hottest gay club in town. He wore a mesh tee pulled taut, his hair slicked into peaks, and some low-slung black trousers that revealed one small strip of skin peeking out over his wide leather belt. It fair made Sherlock’s mouth water just to look at him. He quietly slipped on to the empty bar stool next to John.

"I’m curious. Why didn't you look up just now?" He asked.

"God, he wouldn't mean me." John shrugged, taking a pull from his beer bottle. “You’d be a better bet for that particular call.”

Sherlock reached over, and cupped his chin, tilting his face toward him.  Stormy-grey eyes locked onto denim blue.  “John. You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen. Never say anything different.”

John smiled despite his best efforts to keep a straight face. “Sherlock, what are you doing? I thought we were meant to be strangers tonight.”

“Oh, I’ve already eliminated this place,” Sherlock said with a flick of his wrist. “This bar can’t be where the killer stalks his victims. Look there’s a napkin dispenser at the bar, and a strobe light in the hallway.” 

Sherlock moved closer, letting a wayward hand find its place on John's crotch under the table top. He pressed lightly. “Hey handsome.” He purred. “Fancy coming back to my place tonight?”

John screwed up his forehead, and pretended to consider the offer. “I dunno, that isn’t a very original pick-up line. A bloke has to have some standards, you know.”  He grinned, and took another swallow of beer like his cock wasn't already at half mast. Sherlock had splashed on some fancy cologne for the night’s outing, and he smelled like a jungle cat loose in the meadow. John just barely restrained himself from leaning in and licking a stripe up that never-ending neck.

“All right.” Sherlock said thinking a moment. “How about this one. Come back to my flat and I will worship you so utterly with my hands, mouth, and cock that you will not want to get out of my bed for the next two days for any other reason than to grab a bite of sustenance or use the loo.”

“God.” John's face flushed instantly. He dropped some money onto the bar and pushed back. “How fast can we find a cab?”

Sherlock pulled his lover against him, gripping as much of his fine arse as he could manage with both hands. He ducked his head to catch John’s mouth in a take-no-prisoners, open-mouthed snog.   Through the haze John thought he might have heard “Hey you two, get a room!" and a “Can I join in?” before Sherlock was towing him to an exit by one hand. The night air was a cold slap after the thick heat of the bar. “Taxi!” Sherlock called with an imperious wave. 

Later, when John lay half on and half off the bed, one consulting detective collapsed over his chest, he smiled, idly carding his hand through the mess of Sherlock's curls. “We should definitely do that again, yeah?” He mused.

“What?” Sherlock mumbled against his skin. “The new thing with the fingers?”

“No, though that _was_ good." John huffed out a laugh. "No, I meant we should go out, pretend we’ve just met, and use our best lines to pull each other."

“John.” Sherlock lifted his head to gaze up at him. “To quote a very trite movie you made me watch—you had me at hello.”

“Ah, me too, love.” John admitted, wrapping an arm around Sherlock, and pressing a kiss to his forehead.  “Me too.”


End file.
